Scary and the Wolf
by Allergic-to-Paradox
Summary: A modern day Red Riding Hood: when Scary goes to her Grandmother's house with a bag of goodies, she meets some very odd people on the way.
1. Chapter 1

A/N- I started this story last Easter, and it took on a bizzare life of it's own. I'd love to hear what you think, especially any lines that caught your eye or made you laugh, so please review! Allyp

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Scary munched her toast, thinking about what she would do today. It was Easter and the standard basket of chocolate and jelly beans sat on the table in front of her. Inside the basket was a more unusual gift however, and Scary sat contemplating it as she followed the toast with chocolate.

Her brother Brian flipped her braids as he went by. "A jump rope, huh squirt? What does he think you are, like five?"

"Tuh," she snorted, eating a jelly bean. "I like jump roping. Can I have your black jelly beans?"

"Goin' to Granma's later?" Brian poured himself some oj into Scary's mug.

"Yeah." Scary smoothed the layer of candy in the bottom of her basket and started standing Pixy-Stix upright in a circle around the jump rope. "Look, Pixy-Stonehenge."

"Cool. Are you going to sacrifice the jump rope to the Pixy-Stix gods?" He peered over her shoulder at the basket, sipping his oj.

"Only after the dancing and the pounding of drums. You working today?"

"Yup. Double pay, 'cause it's a holiday. I wonder if you can snort Pixy-Stix?"

"I'm sure the guys at work could tell you."

He laughed. "Probably. You can bring Granma my jelly beans. Tell her and Dad I said happy Easter." He tugged her braids one last time, then strolled out to the truck with his mug of oj and a bagel, whistling The Lumberjack Song.

After Scary had showered, changed, eaten an egg and some more toast, her Father came yawning downstairs. "Morning sweetie. Are you raiding your brother's candy?"

"He said I could have his black jelly beans. Happy Easter."

"Going over to Granma's then? Happy Easter to you, too."

"Yup. Brian went to the lumberyard already; he says happy Easter. Are you going to eat your black jelly beans?" Scary watched her Father rummage in a cupboard.

"I never eat black jelly beans. You and Granma are the only weirdos I know who do. Enjoy. Make sure you're back in time for dinner, okay? I'm going to attempt a roast again this year, if Granma brings her rolls and cake." He flipped one of her braids and sat down at the table with a sigh. "So I suppose this means you'll disappear into the woods the second you're finished and I won't see you again until tonight? And are those my old pants you're wearing?"

"Yes. And no, they're Rob's old pants. The 'chemical resistant' ones." She tugged the green fabric. "They have the best pockets."

"If they're chemical resistant, does that mean they will repel any boys you run into?"

Scary grinned. "Hopefully." She stacked Pixy-Stix and a bag of mostly-black jelly beans into her biggest pocket and shoved the jump rope into another. "Bye Dad, happy Easter."

"See you tonight!" he called after her.

Grabbing her jacket, Scary closed the door and wound down the path to the woods. The air was still and fresh, warm in the places the sun shone through the trees. Once Scary hit the wide section of the path, she unwound her jump rope. Blue rope arcs whizzed over her head as she skipped through the woods. Pausing on the stone bridge over the brook, she tried a few tricks. Skipping backwards, looping the rope, hopping on one foot. She could feel the candy in her pocket bouncing as the rope thwapped on the bridge at each jump. She had just started going backwards on one foot when a loud voice from under her feet interrupted her.

"Shaddup already, Gawd! I'm _tryin'_ ta sleep here!"

Complete shock stopped Scary in her tracks. "Huh?"

"Doncha have better things ta do than jump around on somebody's roof? Gawd! The manners these days!"

Hesitantly, Scary leaned over the side of the bridge to peer underneath. "Hello?"

Two yellow eyes squinted up at her from the shadows beneath the stones. " 'Hello'? Izzat _all_ you have ta say, after wakin' me up like that?"

Scary frowned. "I didn't know you were under there. And nobody's supposed to be under there, this is my Grandmother's land!"

"Tch," snorted the voice. "I've lived here longer than she has, an' she doesn' care. You can even ask her, once y' quit makin' a ruckus on my roof!" The eyes narrowed even more, to make the point, then vanished.

Scary harrumphed, waiting to see if the eyes would reappear. When they didn't, she saw no choice other than to keep going. Glancing back every few steps to make sure no one was following, Scary walked silently off the bridge. Once the brook was out of sight, she shrugged and continued jumping rope.

She wasn't more than ten minutes' jumping from her Granma's house when she met the wolf.

He was leaning casually against a tree, smoking a cigarette, black leather coat looking odd against his sleek fur.

"Oh boy," Scary muttered.

The wolf opened his eyes and spotted her. Grinning, he pulled the headphones from his ears. "Heya sweetheart, where ya headed?"

"Either to insanity or a Neil Gaiman book," Scary answered, glancing around her. "Uh...whatcha listening to, Duran Duran?"

He snorted. "Oh, very clever. Actually, I'm listening to Beethoven."

"Of course...any minute now I'm gonna see Delirium walking towards me, or nice doctors in white coats."

"Riiiight." He raised an eyebrow at her. Until now Scary hadn't even thought wolves _had_ eyebrows. "So, where are you going with your pockets full of jelly beans, your Grandmother's?"

Then again, Scary hadn't thought wolves talked, either. "How did you know..."

"You think this nose is for looks?" He sniffed carefully. "_Black_ jelly beans? Eww. Do you know what they_ put_ in those things?" He made a face, a bit like a snarl on a dog, but with the tongue sticking out.

Scary coughed quickly to hide a laugh.

The wolf scowled at her. "Go on then, get off to your Grandmother's, and stop bothering people. Dunno what kind of weirdos eat black jelly beans anyway."

Scary was tempted to stick out her tongue at him, but after the exceptional number of sharp white teeth she had just seen, she thought better of it. Instead she just sighed and continued on down the path.

"Hey!" he called after her. "What kind of name is Scary, anyhow?"

She turned to look at him, jump rope over her shoulder. "I never told you my name."

"I told you this nose wasn't just for looks, didn't I?"

This gave her pause. "You can smell my name?"

"Noo," he said with exaggerated patience, "just what you're called. If I could smell your name, I wouldn't have asked, would I?"

Scary tapped her fingers against the jelly beans in her pocket, thinking. "My name's Scarlet. My brothers called me 'Scary' for short when I was little and the name stuck. Why can you smell nicknames but not names?"

"Names are more powerful." He snorted again, as though this should have been obvious. "And if I were you, I wouldn't give the Troll my name." He jerked a paw back towards the brook. "She'll hex you a good one. Trolls always get pissy this time of year. Flooding, you know."

"Oh..." Scary managed. "Of course. Thanks."

The wolf grinned at her and put his headphones back on, closing his eyes.

Scary had only gone a few steps more when something occurred to her. "Hey! What's _your _name?" she called back.

"I'm not telling!" he replied, not deigning to open his eyes again.

This time Scary did stick her tongue out, before turning and high-tailing it up the path.

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A/N-- Man, this is weird to break into chapters! So, how many of you got the Duran, Duran reference? C'mon, honestly now? I love the Wolf. He's so cool. ;)


	2. Constanthus

A/N- Aha! Chapter 2, finally. Hope you like...

Thanks so much to ElvenVampyreFairy for her review!

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Scary made it to her Grandmother's house without further mishap, though she kept a close eye out for lurking trolls.

"Morning Granma! Happy Easter!" Scary walked in the door and followed the breeze of cinnamon into the kitchen. Granma Rosa was stacking fresh cinnamon rolls onto a plate, with two glasses of milk standing by.

"Happy Easter, sweetheart. Ah, a jump rope, I used to have such fun with those."

"I got it in my Easter basket." Scary hugged her Grandmother and sat down, hanging aforementioned rope over the back of her chair. "You wouldn't _believe_ the morning I've had!"

"What, your Father actually managed to cook his roast?"

Scary snorted, almost spilling her milk. "Not yet. You never know Granma, he might get it right this year."

"Hmm," Granma Rosa replied, rolling her eyes heavenward for patience. "I suppose it could happen."

"Well, given what else I've seen so far today, it's not as impossible as it sounds. Apparently you have a troll living under your bridge. And it's a grouchy one, too."

Her Grandmother chuckled. "Yes, she is. And that's troll with a capital 'T', dear. You didn't give her your name, did you?"

Scary shook her head, not believing what she was hearing.

"Oh, that's good. Trolls tend to be more irritable than usual at this time of year. All the flooding, you see. I've heard it gets their lairs dreadfully damp and uncomfortable. She may have hexed you if she had known your name."

Scary stared at her. "Yeah...that's about what the wolf said. I swear, all we need now is the Gingerbread man."

"A Wolf?" Granma Rosa set down her cup. "Oh dear. Which one?"

"He wouldn't tell me his name. Wait a minute, how _do_ you know all this? Why's all this stuff suddenly happening?"

Her Grandmother sighed and smiled sadly at her. "Well...it isn't _just_ happening, sweet. It's been this way all along."

"What, and I just never noticed?"

"That's about it."

"But...but..." Scary had to give her brain a mental poke to collect her scattered thoughts, which were running around in little circles, pulling at their hair. "But I've been coming to your house on that path my entire life! How could I not notice?"

Granma Rosa sighed again. "It's a long story, but the shortest explanation I can give you is your Father."

"Dad? Dad knows about all of this?"

"Oh yes, he does. That's the reason your parents moved here, because the magic was so strong. But after your Mother died..." she sipped her milk slowly. "My daughter was a very headstrong, independent woman. She loved everything to do with magic. She even made friends with the Troll." She chuckled slightly. "We used to go on picnics with the fairies, the six of us. You were so little then. Naturally, we were all devastated when she died, it was so sudden. Your Father decided, in the midst of his grief, that he wanted no more of magic, of things 'unreal'. So the picnics with the fairies, the evening conversations with the Troll, it all ended. Eventually, the boys forgot the way it had been, and you were too young to remember it properly.

"You see," Granma Rosa shifted in her chair. "When you are totally oblivious to the Magic, it doesn't have the same effect on you. It may have no effect at all. You could have walked past that wolf every day and not seen him, nor could he stop you if he wanted. To you, he didn't exist, and how can you be bothered by something that doesn't exist?"

"So," said Scary, trying to absorb this. "Magic is real? Trolls, and fairies and talking wolves, and Dad _knew_ this?"

"Yes," agreed Granma Rosa, handing Scary another cinnamon roll. "He has been protecting you all this time. Please don't be angry with him," she added, as Scary stared at the roll. "It was the best thing to do, given the circumstances."

"I thought Mom drowned," Scary said abruptly.

"She did, sweet. But it will be easier to give you the long version when your Father is here."

Scary sat back, staring at the ceiling. Yellow paint stared back at her. "Do Rob and Brian know? Is that why Rob left the way he did?"

"I don't believe so. I am not entirely sure about that part of the story. But Scary," Granma Rosa refilled their glasses from the pitcher on the counter. "Please tell be about this wolf you met."

By the time Scary was finished with her story, the cinnamon rolls were gone and the pitcher of milk was empty. "Well," Granma said. "Next time try asking what he is _called_. I've met him myself. Not a bad sort, as wolves go."

Scary sighed. "Call me dense, but I'm still not sure I get it, I mean...Wolves! And, and Trolls and fairies! How can they co-exist with...with..." she cast about for the most un-magical thing she could think of. "Lawnmowers! What about lawnmowers and dishwashers and...cd players! Magic belongs with castles and knights and things."

Granma Rosa just smiled.

"Well–" Scary started again. "Well..." she scowled down at her glass. "Hmph."

"While you're thinking," Granma Rosa said gently, "I have an Easter gift for you." She got up and took a small box out of her top cupboard. "This is something I came across that I thought you would like. I have one for each of the boys, as well."

The box was heavy, a little longer than her hand. Scary set it carefully on the table and opened the top. An almost-round package of white tissue paper sat within. Curiously, she lifted the item. A swift rustle of tearing tissue paper, and a large glass egg sat on her palm.

"Ooh," breathed Scary. "It's beautiful!"

It was transparent, solid glass. Swirling in it were three bubbles, looking almost silver. They rose from a circle of clear orange flames. The bottom of the egg was just flat enough to rest evenly on Scary's hand. The center bubbles looked like they were soaring through air, oblivious to what was around them.

"Ooh," said Scary again. "Thank you, Granma...it's amazing!"

"I hoped you would like it."

Scary stood the egg on the table, then rested her chin near it, so as to be eye level with it. "Where did you find something like this?"

Granma Rosa chuckled. "When last in our woods I met a rabbit with a cane and eyepatch, who told me the eggs were made by his nephew, a bald glassblower, during the last full moon."

Scary turned to look at her Grandmother, who was leaning against the counter. "Are you serious?"

"Quite."

"A rabbit with an eyepatch?"

"And a cane," she nodded cheerfully. "He was quite a large rabbit."

"And you bought this...from a large rabbit?"

"Yes."

"Well..." Scary looked somewhat at a loss.

"Aren't you hot in that coat, dear?" Granma Rosa asked.

Scary glanced down, realizing that in her continued state of befuddlement she had forgotten to remove her jacket. "Oops." With a sigh she got up and hung it on a coat rack in the hall.

"Are you going to help me make rolls for tonight?" her Grandmother called.

Scary heard her clearing off the table. "Sure. Will you need help with the cake?"

"It just needs to be frosted."

As Granma Rosa put up her hair, Scary got out the recipe book. "Do you often have conversations in the woods with large, cane wielding rabbits, by any chance?"

This was answered with a chuckle. "Goodness, no! Usually I converse with the fairies. They are the ones who put up with humans the most often."

"Right...Do you ever feel like you're suddenly living in a Harry Potter book? Are there any psychotic wizards I should watch out for?"

Granma Rosa almost dropped her bowl she laughed so hard. "No...no. It's nothing like that." She sighed and wiped her eyes on a napkin. "It's more like the old stories, the fairy tales. Hansel and Gretel, Puss in Boots, Janet and Tam Lin."

They worked in silence for a few minutes while Scary digested this. She poked the stick of butter heating in a pot with her fork and glared at it to make it melt faster. As usual, it didn't work. "You're very matter-of-fact about this whole thing," she said after a while.

"Well, it's just the way things are. Although I'm still puzzled as to why you noticed it all _today_. What makes today so different from yesterday, or last week?"

"Good morning, Rosa!" called a deep voice from outside the window.

Granma Rosa leaned over the sill and peered out. "Ah, hello Constanthus! Do come in and have a cup of milk with us!"

"I don't wish to intrude, Rosa. I merely wished to inquire if your Granddaughter arrived safely."

"Yes, she's quite alright. She's in here now. Please join us Constanthus, I'd like her to meet you."

Scary leaned back from the stove, trying to see who was outside, to no avail.

"I don't mean to interrupt."

"Nonsense. Come and join us. I _insist._"

There was a pause, then Granma Rosa beamed. Wiping her floury hands on a towel she went to open the door. "Constanthus is a very dear friend of mine," she said over her shoulder to Scary. "He is one of the most polite people I've ever met. You'll see what I mean."

For a split second, Scary wondered if Constanthus of the deep voice was Granma Rosa's boyfriend. She stifled a giggle and turned the burner down.

"Now," said Granma Rosa's calm voice. "Scary, this is Constanthus of the Keystone Glade. Constanthus, you remember Scary?"

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A/N-- Mwa ha. A miniature cliffie. ;) I'd really like to know if I should keep posting this story, so your reviews are very important!

Allyp


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